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2004-05-15

THE ALBUM IS DONE!

I'm in Las Vegas, Nevada. And, I have VERY GOOD NEWS. My new album "Thirteen Songs About Love" is done! The CDs arrived a few weeks ago, and I have started shipping them out. If you haven't ordered it yet, now is the time! Also, there is a limited supply of signed, numbered CDs for sale on my web site. Click here to get one. I've also set my site up so that you can buy MP3 downloads of songs from the album for only $0.99 each!

My US Tour is almost complete—I will be back in San Francisco in less than two weeks! So, thank you to all the wonderful people who have let me into their lives during the last nine months!

If you believe in what I am doing and want to help support me, please do so! Check out my web site or email me for more information!



US Tour Day 244: Brutal Driving and Lightning

The drive from Amherst to Cleveland was brutal. It took ten hours. I felt charged through the whole thing, though. Even without caffeine or other artificial additives, I exploded with energy and stopped only to feed the car with gas and oil.

The sky dumped buckets of water on me for most of the day. I squinted at what I hoped to be road in front of—as if pushing my eyelids together might clear my windshield, or, better yet, erase the heavy clouds from the sky. Instead, I only saw worse and found myself halfway into the other lane.

Lightning struck the landscape all around me, reaching down from an angry deity, trying to find me and my friends and anyone else making fun of the retarded or sick. It almost got me, too. Lightning struck a metal road mile marker in the center divider just as I drove past it. I saw the lightning out my driver's side window, touching the steel bar just a few meters from my car. The explosion was deafening and I could feel the pressure of the shock wave push through my body.

It all happened so instantly that there wasn't even enough time for fear to propagate in my mind or body. There was no rush of adrenaline. There was none of the shaking that I expected to happen. I felt peaceful, in spite of the huge blast that came so close to me. It made me marvel at how one's natural responses can obviously be tricked (or at least snuck past) as long the duration of the trauma is of infinitesimal duration. It was as if it was too short for my brain to care about. I smiled at my new discovery and tried to make sense of the road through the rain.

I finally arrived, greeted by my old friend Alexandra Underhill. I melted into the quiet and peace of not driving; I relaxed into the arms of a welcoming friend with a warm house. Traveling can be wonderful, but only when punctuated by moments of non–travel.


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